


gonna pack my things and go

by itjustcantbe



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friendship, Gen, [to the tune of final countdown] its a mental break-down, ao3 recced both of those and idk which is more fitting, barry-centric angst where he has a moment and his friends are there for him, thats a tenant of all my content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itjustcantbe/pseuds/itjustcantbe
Summary: "Maybe …. maybe he thinks we don’t need him.”“That’s ridiculous,” Ben says after a beat. “Of course we need Barry.”“I don’t think Barry realises that.” Mike says.Or Barry starts to feel like he's not needed by Sorted and takes extreme action, and the others endeavour to sort things out





	gonna pack my things and go

It’s not a good idea of Barry’s that starts it all. It’s not good thoughts that line up and send him a miracle solution. It’s more of a haphazard panicked decision he makes when he starts feeling less like an integral part of the team and more like a burden who helped get it off the ground. It’s not like they  _ need  _ him anymore. He’s not the sole photographer, and the money that his dad helped with to get them started hasn’t been relevant in years. Hell, even his ideas aren’t the only ones now, and it’s not like everything he comes up with is good. With the sorted team as it is, Barry feels like a satellite slowly going defunct. 

 

He pushes the idea down for a while, but doesn’t fully forget his options. Keeps the document of his shares open on his desktop computer and the paperwork to give them up half filled out and ready to send off at any moment. He sees them when he tidies his desk up in the mornings and when he works editing from home and it chips away at him. It starts being more of a question of when it will happen rather than  _ if  _ it will happen. 

 

After a day of doing what feels like nothing, of barely even participating in conversation in the studio, not bothering to throw any new ideas in the ring, Barry’s had it. He’s an extra on the team, and if it wasn’t for his face in half of their videos, he probably wouldn’t still be there. As for the videos he is in, it doesn’t take an expert to ask dumb questions and have a stupid looking face. The thoughts fly thick and fast at him on his way home, and he racks through his head to try think of something, anything, to counter them. He can’t. It takes all of twenty minutes to finish filing the paperwork to pass his shares on. It’s a weeknight, late enough that no one would still have their emails open - he sends the shares off to the others, Ben, Jamie, Mike, and James, with little explanation. 

 

_ Hope you guys don't hate how i divvied these out, I'll be in touch <3 _

 

There’s not much else he can think to explain. Deep down, Barry doesn’t know what explanation he’d be able to give if they asked for one. He takes his phone out of his pocket. It’s mostly charged. His passport is in his other pocket and his wallet is in the coat that he slips on as he walks out the door. He doesn’t bring his house keys - no matter where he’s going now, he doesn’t want to come back to London any time soon. 

 

_ (At all?) _

 

Barry can’t see in his mind’s eye what life will be without Sorted, but coming back to where it all started seems like it would be all too hard. 

 

Barry is at the airport before he knows it - he leaves the work group chat and his personal one with just the guys as he made his way there. Leaving the chat hadn’t originally been part of his (admittedly scant) plan. The plan was to give an explanation, send a message through the Sorted group chat and then go on his way, but as he opened it his heart fell; it was marketing information with Jamie and pictures from Ben of a recipe lab he’d done with James, snippets of Mike’s latest voiceover, new edits and photoshops from Ed - and all of it was being adored. Barry couldn’t see one contribution that he had made of any significance there. It hurt and all he wanted was to not see that anymore. The fastest way out was to leave the chat and keep going. Looking at the flight options for that night, the temptation is there to just get on the first and cheapest flight there is. Barry decides against it, eyes glancing from destination to destination, as though choosing with any amount of care will make the whole thing feel less crazy than it is. 

 

The flight to Mongolia is set to depart at 23:29. It’s somewhere far away, a fresh take on the world without it having been somewhere where Ben’s visited or where they’ve done a themed week for or any of that. He’s never been to Asia before. When he buys the ticket, Barry almost feels guilty for the poor desk clerk. They sure as hell don’t look confident in selling him the ticket, and as he catches his reflection in a window of the airport he can see why. Bloodshot eyes, face a combination of stressed and hyperactive that he’s sure makes it look like he’s on god knows what combination of drugs, and hands shaky. The last part almost doesn’t matter - Barry doesn’t have any luggage, nothing to be shaking around in his hands anyway except for his passport and wallet to buy the tickets; his phone (set to Do Not Disturb) feels like it’s ready to burn a hole in his pocket. 

 

Barry shifts his phone as he’s sat on the plane, and the screen lights up, what seems like an avalanche of messages. Barry is genuinely surprised by it. His only reaction is to turn his phone off before the flight attendant says to, wanting to cut off the influx. All that the messages are doing is making him feel worse. At the same time, he’s more certain that he’s making a tough decision that had to be made,  _ just like ripping off a bandaid _ , he tells himself. 

 

The first messages are all worried. 

 

_ Barry? You alright? I saw the email with the shares, do you need to talk to the accountant? - Ben _

 

_ hey uh … you left the sorted chat? did your phone have a fit again? - Mike _

 

_ I’m sure u got the msgs frm the others, but anyway, do you need to call? - Jamie _

 

It’s the same worried energy, surely meant to comfort Barry, but all he feels is guilt. What the  _ fuck  _ has he done? He’s made a mistake and now he needs to keep running with it until he figures out what comes next. 

 

The tone of the messages change. Only the messages from Ben stay the same, with completely earnest worried caution, giving Barry every benefit of doubt that he knows he doesn’t deserve. 

  
  


The four of them - Ben, Jamie, Mike, and James - find themselves at the studio. It’s late at night and it takes a minute longer than it should to get in, turning the automated alarms off at some ungodly hour, not something any of them had ever worried they’d have to do. They’re all still texting Barry, not caring whether he’s reading them so much as needing to do  _ something  _ about the whole situation. 

 

Jamie finds himself scolding Barry, not knowing what else to do other than to tell him off while begging him to come home. 

 

_ Are you drunk Barry? Where are you? - Jamie _ _  
_ _ This isnt responsible behaviour, get back here - Jamie _

 

_ Barry, please, an explanation would help. -James _

_ At least a fucking reply so we know you’re safe. - James _

 

It’s hitting Ben hard, though he keeps telling himself possibilities for why Barry wouldn’t reply. 

 

_ Barry! Call me if you’re reading this please! We’re all at the studio (yes, even Mike, i know, I know, he’s hating the early start), just a reply please. - Ben _

_ Not to be a cock, but I hope your phones broken, that’s gotta be it, right? - Ben _

 

Mike gets angriest. It takes a while, and he goes through the motions, from sympathetic concern to begging Barry to return, but in the end he gets to being pissed. 

 

_ Ben is fucking terrified. Barry James Taylor what the fuck is going on? - Mike _

 

That’s the last text Barry sees before he turns his phone off - for good, he figures. It wasn’t the plan originally, but a new phone number with his new start seems okay. Not like he can reply; he hardly knows what’s going on, just knows that he has to keep following where his brain is taking him until things stop feeling so shit. The easy reply seems too obvious, like it’s a given and he shouldn’t let the fact he doesn’t contribute anything to the team send him into ‘have a breakdown and fly to Mongolia’ mode. Surely the others assumed he already knew that. If he sent a message explaining it at all, all he’d get in response would be a chorus of ‘duh’s or ‘and what of it?’s - which he wouldn’t cope with at all. 

 

In the studio, as the hours go by, things aren’t getting any better. No work is getting done - Jamie and Ben sit side by side at their desks, computers and phones open, ready for any possible contact from Barry. James pacing and frantic at first, needing to do something to keep himself from getting too stressed out. He finds himself making a batch of sourdough cinnamon rolls, or that’s the plan at least, and in between provings, he paces the whole studio, phone in his shirt pocket at full volume on the off chance that it will go off. 

 

Mike is cussing Barry out - barely under his breath. 

 

“The fucking bastard, who does he think he is?” 

 

It earns him a look from Ben, who hasn’t reached that point of resentment at all, instead finding a place of worried optimism. 

 

“Mike, listen, if his phone broke after whatever happened, and then his alarm didn’t go off, we can hardly blame him. We can just stop by his house and sort it out from there.”

 

Mike rolls his eyes, but even in his frustration, can’t bring himself to argue with Ben. Any time any of them get a text or email, there’s a collective held breath, before whoever it is sighs and shakes their head ‘Not him’. 

 

Barry makes the most of the complimentary alcohol on the flight, but that does nothing to stop his mind from considering how the others are probably better off without him. Okay, sure, he started it, helped build Sorted from the ground up, but clearly the machine doesn’t need him anymore. Anyone could have seen a friend who is a talented chef and think ‘let's make a cookbook together’, anyone can do a bit of amateur photography and act like an idiot on Youtube. It's not like it takes a lot of skill to have the ideas that Barry had, that led up to the whole thing and, as he sees it, the skills that everyone else has eclipse his by so much at this point. 

 

When the plane lands and the flight attendants say that people can turn their phones back on, Barry’s half forgotten why he's there, and what’s going on. He turns it on for a moment and is instantly inundated with even more texts and missed calls. It’s a strong reminder of what he’s done, and he uses the moment to send a message before deleting everything. 

 

_ hy Josh - in mongolia. not sure if londons for me anymore. done with sorted? i’ll explain later  _ _  
_ _ \- Barry _

 

He’s tipsy enough to forget that his phone has a location tracker, not like it something he ever uses properly anyway. 

 

That short moment of his phone being on, it picks up his location. Jamie’s been intermittently checking the ‘Find My Friends’ app every time he does a full circle of anything else he can think to do, and he sees it in moments. 

 

“Barry!” Jamie exclaims, brain not working fast enough to figure out how to get the attention of the others in the studio. 

 

It works anyway, and in seconds the other three are by his side. 

 

“His phone’s in Mongolia?” Jamie continues. 

 

Ben’s response is a sigh of relief - surprising Mike, Jamie, and James for a moment until he explains. 

 

“Well, that just means his phone got stolen, right?” With Ben’s tone of voice it’s hard to tell if he’s trying to convince them or himself. “I mean, it’s not great, but he just got mugged or something, we can start calling hospitals, see where he is, it’ll be fine, he’ll be fine.”

 

Before they can move to do anything else, google phone numbers of hospitals, get in touch with Barry’s family, drive around trying to retrace his steps, Ben’s phone starts ringing. It’s Josh - Barry’s brother. 

 

“Josh!” he exclaims, picking up the phone within the first ring. “I don't know if you've heard from Barry -"

 

"I have.” Josh’s voice doesn’t sound as worried as Ben’s, more confusion than anything else. 

 

"Oh thank god,” Ben exhales. “We figure he's been mugged? Do you know where -"

 

"No. He hasn’t been mugged, I don’t think. Did something happen at the studio?"

 

Josh seems to not want to say up front whatever it is that Barry’s said to him, which colours Ben’s face with concern. 

 

"No? Did he say something had?” he pauses, fumbling with the touchscreen of his phone. “One second, I'm gonna put you on speakerphone, we're all here.”

 

Josh pauses. Even without seeing his face, the fact that he can’t put into words what he wants to say is obvious. "He's in Mongolia... he didn’t seem sure whether or not he's coming back.”

 

That puts Ben at a loss for words. All the allowances and hypotheticals he’d been giving Barry seem dashed entirely and he can’t think of any good reply to Josh’s words, so Mike speaks up. 

 

“We assumed his phone had been stolen, checked find your friends or whatever it is. Are you sure he's there?"

 

"He said so, he texted me. That's all I know though.”

 

Once the phone call is over they’re all kind of quiet for a long time. Jamie feels betrayed, as though one of his closest friends has up and left him and he should know why but doesn’t. None of them know why, for all their attempts to put together what Josh told them with Barry’s message and the last few days, but nothing seems to make sense. 

 

“Who knows, maybe he’s just gone off on an impromptu bender,” Mike says scathingly. It’s not that he doesn’t care, far from it, he cares more than he’d want to admit, but he doesn’t feel like  _ just  _ caring is enough, and he needs to distance himself from the pit in his stomach through jokes or he’ll lose it. 

 

All said, that doesn’t change the dirty looks Jamie and James give him, offering no reply to the alleged joke. Ben's wracking his brain to think of the banter that pushed it over the limit the previous day, and coming short at everything, can’t think of a scathing comment or anything that anyone made at Barry that Barry didn’t have an instant reply for. 

 

“I don’t understand…” Ben says with a sigh. “He didn’t say  _ anything _ .”

 

James can’t stop stress baking. Ben’s on his phone poring over messages from Barry across all platforms and Jamie is trying to power through it, trying to seem unaffected, checking emails on the off chance that Barry emails him or someone emails him with some kind of clue. Mike is just sat there. It was a too early wake up for him and it’s fucking exhausting emotionally. He feels so useless there with the others, so he settles for making much needed cups of tea and coffee for everyone, putting enough caffeine into his body to make his tremors worse than ever. 

 

James is going from the test kitchen to the store cupboard, back and forth, three bowls of proofing dough on the bench and muffins in the oven because he needs to keep busy. With Ben and Jamie on "Barry watch" with reasonable efficiency, baking is all he can do. He focuses on the dough until his brain is one track of kneading the dough, setting a timer, getting more flour out, blooming yeast, heating the oven, checking the prove, over and over and over. He bumps into Mike as he is wandering around, getting himself a coffee, and Mike, short nerved as ever just snaps at him.

 

“Watch where you’re bloody going,  _ James. _ ”

 

It’s properly harsh, spat out with none of the usual light-heartedness of their interactions. Normally it’d earn him some snark in response, or a more genuine ‘get real Mike’, but James just looks at him blankly. It takes James a moment to remember the situation outside of his breadmaking. 

 

Mike’s brain is out of it but his mind is slowly piecing things together. He’s texting Barry, the anger from earlier faded slightly to just snarky comments because he can’t do anything else. He knows Barry isn’t reading them, so he figures it’s not going to do any harm, it’s something mindless he can do while also trying to think of why Barry would be gone. It takes him a while before he realises what it might be. 

 

He’s halfway through typing out  _ “oh don’t worry about us Baz. You know this place can run fine without-”  _ when he stops. 

 

“ _ Oh _ .”

 

He doesn’t want to yell it out but his phone falls from his hand and he says “oh” out loud again. James is close enough to hear and notice, and quirks an eyebrow, not quite following whatever journey it is that Mike is going through. It’s in that second that Mike manages to call out properly.

 

“Shit! Uh guys... GUYS!!”

 

Ben is over at Mike’s side in a second 

 

"Did he reply to your nonsense? I thought you were just doing that to be a dick?" 

 

Mike shakes his head dismissively. "No, he didn’t,” he says as Jamie joins them. 

 

“What’s this about then?” Jamie asks. 

 

“I think I figured out why he ran off.”

 

He grabs Ben’s phone with the group chat open and his own phone, his own messages to Barry, and tries to explain what he had been doing. 

 

“Look, he’s not going to read it, so who cares if I’m being an arse. But look, no one in the group chat has mentioned him for days, he’s barely sent a message there for the last week, and no one’s pushed for his, creative input or whatever. It could look like he’s … not important to us. Maybe …. maybe he thinks we don’t need him.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Ben says after a beat. “Of course we need Barry.”

 

“I don’t think Barry realises that.” Mike says.

 

There’s a moment of relief of at least knowing what the problem is, which is semi broken when James speaks. 

 

“I mean, can we even do anything about it outside of flying to Mongolia ourselves and just... looking for him? It’s hopeless.”

 

“Okay, let’s do it,” Jamie says. 

 

Ben sputters. “We can’t just…”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, for one, we have work, and obligations-” 

 

Jamie cuts Ben off. “Barry is our obligation and he directly affects our work.”

 

It’s not so much a stare down between Jamie and Ben, so much as both knowing the other is right - in part - and wanting to find a solution. 

 

“Look,” Mike says. “We’ll bring a camera along, make a ‘Lost and Hungry’ out of it. It’ll work.”

 

As plans go, it’s not the most haphazard thing that Sorted has done, but it’s certainly the weirdest build up. 

 

It hits Barry at about the same time. 

 

" _ Shit _ . I’ve fucking done this. I can’t… I can never go back,” he says to himself, making his way through the airport. 

 

Barry finds his way to a bar in Ulaanbaatar, where he’s sat, head in his hands. Okay, having a meltdown and staying at home, taking a few days or a week off work to cool down? That’d be fine. Even if he fucked off to Bristol or Ireland for the day, there wouldn’t be a problem with that. Barry can even imagine busting out his passport and going to Switzerland, or somewhere else in Europe, without it being too big of a deal. But this is more than all of that combined, and all he can think is how running off to another continent will make the others hate him, badly. He thought that a change of scene would make him happy but he just feels worse, more confused and lost and unneeded than he had before. He almost texts one of the guys but then decides not to, not wanting to open that can of worms yet. 

 

For once he's fully out of ideas, which is worse than any of the feelings he was having about the others. He's Barry - he always has ideas, good or bad... maybe a bit of both, but now he can’t think of anything.

 

The rest of the guys pack their bags and buy the next available tickets. 

 

They’ve essentially pulled an all-nighter at the studio, or longer when you think about it, so they all pile into one car, sticking together as they get organised. Jamie drives to each of their houses, and everyone packs a few days worth of things, no idea how long they’ll actually be gone for. They get to the airport as quickly as possible. They have bags under their eyes and the biggest coffees they could buy at the airport cafe, unfairly overpriced. The whole thing feels irrational and bizarre to do but there’s no real alternative, not until Barry gets in touch, and at least this way they’ll be closer to him, in theory. 

 

Barry meanwhile is drinking and trying to distract his mind from the fact that he's just done this, trying not to focus on the very real chance and likelihood that everyone hates him for it. It’s not going so well. 

 

He assumes that Josh would have told the others, though exactly what, he hasn’t a clue. It’s not like Barry gave him a lot to go off in the first place, and he hardly has a clue what any of them would do about it. It’s fucking childish to get upset about being unneeded and react by going to an entire other continent. Barry wonders if maybe this will be the final straw for everyone, and they’ll want him off the team for good, if this will be the last push it takes for them to admit that’s what they want. 

 

He’s loathe to call it moping. In fairness that’s definitely what it is, but he tries to convince himself that a one-man impulse trip to Mongolia is anything other than what it actually is. Hell, Barry even tries to tell himself he’s having fun, finding places he wouldn’t have found without asking locals, breaking away from the areas more popular for tourists - not fully acknowledging the part of his brain egging him on, promising him how much harder it’ll be to chase him down if he goes even further off the grid. 

 

For the other four, the flight is awkward. 12 hour economy flights are bad enough when you don’t have to plan out what is, essentially, a rescue mission throughout it. Jamie points out that at least they don’t need to stress too much if they use their phones. Expensive or not, the international minutes and texts can be written off as a work expense since they managed to bring the cameras.

 

That’s the other thing - they hardly want to sell this particular Lost and Hungry as "Baz had a meltdown and we chased him", so the line that they’re going with for the camera is that Barry went ahead of them to see what the locals think, learn what dishes are must-tries, and scout specific locations. It means at least they have an excuse for why he isn’t on the footage for flying over. Having no footage for Barry’s ‘scouting trip’ over would be neither here nor there, so long as they had some travel footage from the rest of them going over. What that means for them is having to put on a brave face every so often, act like everything’s okay and banter back and forth in front of a rolling camera before Mike puts it down and they go back to planning. 

 

They realise that they’re working on the logic that he'll just need the reassurance from them once they find him, that Barry will come home willingly once they express to him how needed and wanted he is. 

 

The planning is harder, the uncertainty whether to split up or stick together, how to decide where to go, whether they have any idea of where Barry might have gone. In the end they split off into pairs - Ben and Mike heading one way and Jamie and James the other. It’s easy to find the best tourist destinations, and given it wasn’t - or didn’t seem to be - a planned trip on Barry’s part, they figure he has as much of a clue as they do as to what’s good. Anything that looks on brand for Barry Taylor they visit, showing tour guides and servers a photo and asking if they’ve seen him. Ben keeps the Find Your Friends app open on his phone, on the off chance Barry’s phone comes back online. 

 

Mike can tell Ben is starting to properly worry, and insists they stop to get a coffee and bite to eat before they keep wandering around. The cafe they stop at is a hole-in-the-wall place with seemingly not much going for it but cheap prices and a pair of servers who are looking pointedly at Ben and Mike, stifling slight smiles and laughs as Ben and Mike order their coffees and talk between each other. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Mike asks, after it becomes too obvious to not comment on. 

 

One of the servers speaks up. “It’s just your accents. U.K. isn’t it?” 

 

Mike nods apprehensively. “So what?” 

 

“It’s just, you two look worse than the last English person who came in here.” 

 

Ben joins the dots faster than Mike - only just - and interrupts. “Wait - when was this?”

 

“Well, that’s the thing that makes it more funny. It was about this time yesterday.” 

 

Mike’s already on his phone, opening a the best picture of Barry he has to show them. “It wasn’t this guy, was it?” 

 

The server looks at the photo for a few moments before nodding. “You know what, I do think it was. What are the odds, yeah.”

 

It’s kind of reassuring to them that Barry’s in a visibly bad condition. They don’t feel good for thinking it, it’d be better if Barry didn’t feel upset and all that, but the fact that he was distressed and anxious and a bit of a mess and not celebrating freedom or whatever, that much means it was probably the right call to come and find him. 

 

Mike texts the others to update them, not that there’s all that much to tell them other than where he and Ben are. He gets a confirmation from Jamie that they’re on their way while Ben talks to the server, who can’t give many details, not for lack of trying. 

 

“He looked tipsy maybe? Or lost? Honestly, maybe it was both. He talked for a bit though, and asked for where to get proper local food. Do you want the places I told him to go to?”

 

Ben nods emphatically, notes app already open, ready to take note of places and addresses, and a few hotels nearby where Barry might have stayed the night. At least now they have a more specific area to look, not in tourist central, and Ben has the few more places where they can go and ask after him. Painful as it is, they wait until Jamie and James get back to them before heading off again, not wanting the group to be more spread out than they need to be. 

 

“He’s gonna freak when he sees us,” Mike muses. 

 

“Why - why would he freak?” Ben seems indignant as he asks. 

 

Mike rests a hand on Ben’s shoulder - normally it could come off as joking or worse, patronising, but in the moment, Ben knows it comes from a place of kindness. “He’s just run away, Ben,” Mike says slowly. “He probably doesn’t even think we know he’s here, let alone the fact we’ve chased him. It’ll be okay though.”

 

“I suppose so,” Ben says with a hum. 

 

Mike’s not wrong. 

 

James and Jamie have rejoined Ben and Mike by the time they end up walking the same street as Barry, through sheer luck. It’s the accent that gives them away at first - Barry’s walking down the street and starts hearing snippets of a conversation happening in English, but those accents that he’s been hearing his whole life, they’re a dead giveaway. He ducks in through the first door he sees, a proper small hole-in-the-wall restaurant, the expression in his eyes conveys a ‘don’t ask questions’ look to a waiter who sits him down with a menu. 

 

He’s reeling. It’s been a day or so - the timezones confuse him enough that, combined with the a bit of drinking, he’s not a 100% sure what time it would be in the U.K. right now - and they’re already here. Hell, if he heard correctly, they’re actively looking for him. There’s no way out of it. 

 

Barry’s glad for the seat in the restaurant - the others can’t make too much of a scene if he stays in public. As much as he might deserve a punch in the face, they can’t do that to him if he stays in the restaurant. He turns his phone back on with a dry laugh - there’s something undeniably laughable about the fact that had he had his phone on this whole time, the battery life sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted. 

 

It takes a second for his phone to even work properly, because it blows up with all the messages he missed while it was switched off, and he opens his texts to Ben, and doesn’t even realise he's crying but his throat is tight and his eyes feel hot and stinging as he types out " _ im sorry _ ". 

 

There’s no easy way to say " _ im just down the road _ " or " _ turn left in 20 metres _ ", and it’s definitely not easy to say “ _ oh i did see you i ran off check out the restaurant a few doors down _ ” so he leaves it at an apology and thanks god for the 'send my location' button.

 

When Ben’s phone buzzes with the notification he reads it quickly, preparing himself for the disappointment of seeing that it’s not from Barry, stopping dead in his tracks when he reads it. He grabs James’ arm, enough to get the attention of all three of the others. 

 

“He’s here,” he says. “Barry’s here.” 

 

It takes a second to open Barry’s linked location, Google Maps being a bit shit, and it’s a tense moment of ‘what if it doesn’t work?’, but it passes when Ben’s phone loads. Sure enough, the location is hardly a walk away down the road. The four of them enter the restaurant and see Barry, sat at a table alone. What they don’t see are the tears in his eyes and dark circles framing them; Barry’s head is resting in his hands, his fingers clinging tight to his hair, bracing himself for the next few moments. Mike and James share a look, asking the hypothetical of whether to hug him or hit him atop the head. 

 

Ben is immediately on Barry’s side, both figuratively and literally, as he takes a seat and rests a hand on Barry’s shoulder. 

 

“Baz, Baz, are you okay?” 

 

Ben figures that even if Barry’s there, and conscious and lucid, they have no idea how the he’s passed his time in the day he’s been missing. The others take their seats too, faces varying from fully sympathetic to relieved, but Mike can’t hide the frustration he feels towards Barry at all. 

 

"You fucking terrified us, Barry,” Miike says, and his voice is harsher than Ben’s, slightly louder, less warm. It causes Barry to look up, and shake Ben’s hand from his shoulder. 

 

Barry opens his mouth to talk. He knows they deserve a reply and an explanation and, quite frankly, someone who isn’t him, but his voice catches in his throat and he only manages to choke out a stuttered "I - I’m sorry.” 

 

Jamie rakes his fingers through his several day old bedhead hair, needing something to do with his hands. The confusion on his face is obvious below he concern and relief and sympathy. He looks at Barry gently. 

 

“Why did you leave?” he asks quietly. 

 

When trying to answer, Barry almost feels embarrassed. Suddenly it feels so childish to have a breakdown over such small things, especially a breakdown on the scale that he has. There’s the niggling thought that won’t leave the back of his head that maybe they’ll agree anyway. That he’ll voice his explanation and it will break him and he’ll look up to see unsurprised faces or nods of agreements or shrugs of ‘and so what?’. Logically he knows that they wouldn’t do that, but it feels like a genuine fear, so he lets his face fall back into his hands to avoid eye contact as he explains - though Ben’s hand returns to his shoulder. 

 

"You dont-"  his voice breaks. "You guys are so much better than me in … in every way. Y-you dont need me."

 

There’s no good reply to that. Barry’s head being in his hands means he doesn’t see the looks of regret on the other four’s faces as they look between each other. How are they supposed to convince Barry to see his value when they apparently haven’t done it at all for the last decade?

 

That’s what they realise - through all Barry’s bravado and only half put-on stupidity, some of it’s bound to follow him home. Even if treating him as a scapegoat - Barry “doesn’t stick to the brief” Taylor, Barry “can’t be too lemony” Taylor, Barry “mumbling” Taylor, Barry “do rocks burn?” Taylor - is always in jest, the other four now have to worry that he took it to heart. For all the jokes Barry is happy to make at his own expense, it’s sometimes easy to forget that some of them could be sore spots or insecurities. They have absolutely no idea whether it started hitting harder for him at some point, so now they’re responsible for some part of it. 

 

It feels like there’s nothing they can do to make it right, no easy way to voice how  _ wrong _ Barry is. Anything obvious to say would sound like just that - the obvious thing to say, but the silence just makes Barry’s stomach sink and he feels sick. The side of his brain that had been telling him the whole time that things will be fine, that the others would reassure him and say that they care, it feels like it’s being crushed more and more with every second of silence that passes. 

 

When Barry feels done enough that he feels like getting up and walking out, or asking them to leave, Ben is finally the first of them to talk. 

 

“Barry... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that we made you feel this way. I wish we’d shown you so, because of course we need you. We literally wouldn’t be here as a group without you.”

 

“But you’re better off without me now,” is Barry’s reluctant response. 

 

“That is a bloody lie, Barry Taylor!” Mike spits out instantly, though just as quickly, Ben holds up a hand, warning him to take it slower.

 

“Barry. Barry, I… I can’t express how sorry I am for making you feel like you’re not valuable to us, to the team, all the time. You have so much vision and creativity, more inspirations than the rest of us put together. You can look at something completely unshaped and see the potential. How is that not valuable?”

 

Barry shakes his head and looks up - he looks absolutely broken, in his facial expression and everything about how he holds himself. 

 

"I just, you could do without it. You have a full team, you have it all, and everyone’s so fucking brilliant and I what? Come up with some dumb ideas that have fifty fifty chances of getting abused in the comment section when it comes down to it? Losing that's hardly a major loss, is it?" he asks. He’s speaking quickly, hardly taking a breath between sentences so that he can at least get all his thoughts out without starting to lose it again. 

 

“It’s a major loss to me,” Jamie says. “You’re my best mate, Baz. I care about you, and I’ve stuck by you for ... for 20 bloody years! I’ll stick by you if you do want to give up on Sorted and try something else, if that’s what will make you happy. I promise I would, but don’t think for a second that we’ll be better off without you because… because it’s just not true, okay? Also…” Jamie trails off, with a sigh and a shake of his head before speaking again, his tone more serious, firmer. “Don’t scare us like this. If you’re having a hard time, please say something. We can try to help you, okay? You’re as close as a brother to me and when you just up and vanished I ... I feared for the worst.”

 

It’s those words from Jamie that make it hit Barry how big a mistake he’s made, and how much worse things could have been. The overwhelming emotions before had been embarrassment, maybe a bit of guilt and shame, but now, as Barry realises what he’s done, how bad the assumption would have been if Ben, Mike, Jamie, or even James had pulled a stunt like he had. Sure, Barry himself knew he wasn’t going to do anything reckless to the point of being dangerous, but the others wouldn’t have had a clue. 

 

"I didn't know what else to do," he says after a deep breath. "Just felt so trapped." He gives a dry laugh and takes on a mocking tone of voice before continuing.  "’Don’t put me in a box' I guess." 

 

It's painfully self-deprecating, as though he can assure the others he's fine by putting himself down. James is itching to hug him, his tactile nature means he’s been wanting to pull Barry into his arms since he saw him sitting at the table alone. From his seat beside Barry, James wraps an arm around Barry’s shoulders and pulls him close. James isn’t a big talker at the best of times, and at a time like this, there’s nothing he can properly say to convey what he wants to, but through touch he can try to communicate it all. He’s quiet and stoic and wants to bear all the pain that Barry has, and Barry melts into James’ touch, his shoulders shaking. 

 

Jamie leans across the table to put a hand on Barry’s shoulder, Ben and Mike each taking one of his hands. And Barry hates it. Not in an angry way or out of discomfort, because he knows they mean well and the reassurance of human contact is of course helping, but he hates that he needs it. He wishes that he could be normal, not require such a strong reassurance over what might be a minor thing, but apparently that just isn’t an option for Barry Taylor, so, failing that, he’s grateful he has the others. 

 

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

 

“We’re not mad,” Mike says, and it means the most coming from him. “We were scared and worried, and, alright I won’t lie, I was a bit frustrated, but not mad. We love you, mate.”

 

"You're... allowed to be though," Barry says. It’s not that he wants them to agree with him, or wants them to be angry, but he doesn’t want to act like the only victim of the situation. "I'm not gonna act like I'm not the idiot here. It wasn't... right what I did."

 

"That's not the point, Barry," James says, squeezing him to reassure him again. "Right now, that isn't the point. Just... know that we care about you."

 

It’s easy to find James reassuring. He’s all level words and calm touch. Ben gives an apology to the restaurant by way of ordering some food to go and taking Barry back to a hotel nearby. James makes a point of trying to keep contact with Barry the whole way there

 

They’re in agreement that Barry can’t get left alone for the night. Hell, there wouldn’t be a problem at all if not for the need to still get some footage, nevertheless, they work it out so James is staying with Barry and the other three leave. There are enough night markets and late night bars and restaurants that they should be able to get enough footage to cobble together a video out of it. 

 

Mike’s happy to film while Jamie and Ben muddle their way through a video, trying food and giving recommendations and conversing enough for it to come off as general. As soon as they’d found Barry, and realised properly what was wrong, all the anger and frustration Mike had been feeling had faded away, and filming, making sure the angles are good and the audio is coming through, it gives him the something else to focus on that he needs. 

 

At the late notice with which they’ve booked a hotel, they only manage to get a room with one bed - a double luckily - which James and Barry resign themselves to sharing.

 

“Mike’s hoping to try something new with lighting,” James comments. “He thinks he can make night shots look better even with less natural light.”

 

Barry knows the conversation is for his sake, talking about their work to make things seem less strange, and less directly focussed on the fact that their being here is his fault. 

 

“I reckon he’ll figure it out,” Barry says, though his voice is more soft and hesitant than usual. 

 

They get into the bed together, Barry at first, as far from James as he can manage, but then James reaches out and pulls Barry close, and Barry can’t resist it. There’s no deep meaning to it, just James wanting to comfort Barry wordlessly, in the best way he knows how. Barry can feel the comforting force from James, and it’s as though James is conveying through touch the worry he has, but through it all, reassurance. 

 

Barry lets himself fall asleep in James’ arms, and it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in weeks. 

 

it takes James a while to get to sleep. At first he isn’t really trying to, with some irrational part of his brain is saying that if he does, Barry will make a break for it again. The logical side of him knows Barry wouldn't, but he hates to think of if he fell asleep before Barry and Barry did end up needing someone to talk to. It’s okay for James, lying there with Barry in his arms, being able to feel as Barry’s breath gets more level and he drifts off to sleep. 

 

At the night market, Mike is hurrying their filming along as he realises that they do need to talk. Once he figures it’s enough footage to account for an overseas trip, he stops the camera rolling. He, Ben, and Jamie find a quiet bar that’s still open and take a seat. 

 

“We fucked up,” Mike says. “We can fix things, make it right with Baz, not drag it on, but we can’t tell ourselves that we didn’t fuck up.”

 

Jamie and Ben both nod, equally hesitantly. It’s painful to have to admit. 

 

“I shouldn’t have been so harsh on him today,” he adds. 

 

It’s impossible not to notice that Jamie starts to shake his head before nodding an agreement. “It was a hard situation to be in, Mike, but I do think you should say sorry.” 

 

Mike doesn’t object. 

 

“I just… how did I not see it?” Ben asks. He’s half asking himself and half asking the others. “I’m supposed to be his friend and somehow I didn’t notice him feeling like we didn’t need him.”

 

“Ben,” Jamie says, soft but stern. “We’re all supposed to be his friends. He should have felt like he could talk to us about it, but he couldn’t. It’s not just on you.”

 

It’s not to calm Ben down. It’s Jamie admitting the fault is universal, can’t be pinned on any one of them, sure, but there’s no upside to that. Between his job being the main business side of things and him being the dad friend and proper team player, Jamie can’t help but want to put blame on himself. Ben and Barry have been friends for longer, and Ben feels just as much that he should have been aware before. For all Barry’s insecurities, Mike has enough of his own as well that make it feel like he should have had the insight, that it should have been easier for him over the others to notice. Jamie takes it on himself to guide the conversation at least, to try figure out ways to prevent it from happening again, and to make sure everyone on the team realises their importance. 

 

“He won’t want to feel like we’re babying him,” Mike points out. “Like, we’ll talk the whole thing out with him but we can’t just, stop making fun of him.”

 

Jamie nods with a hum. “I think we just need to be able to remind each other of the little things, and have it come naturally.”

 

From there it feels natural for the conversation to start to fall into the three of them talking to each other more genuinely than they have in years, being up front about how much they value each other. There are tears, hands on shoulders, pulling each other into tight hugs and celebrating each other proper. 

 

They keep talking, even once the bar changes the lighting to remind them of the time - that maybe they should start heading off - all the way back to the hotel room. Even though they managed to get a room with two double beds, they end up sat together on one of the beds, still talking. The conversation ends up carrying on the point of ‘how do we make sure this doesn’t happen again’ - both in the literal sense, in that they were on the other side of the world over a lack of communication, but also, and arguably more importantly, stressing that none of them deserve to feel like this. 

 

Although they weren’t planning on it, they fall asleep in the same bed as well, waking up in the morning with Jamie’s body wrapped around Mike, Mike half leaning into it but an arm and leg thrown across Ben’s middle, Ben on his back with an arm across the top of the bed. 

 

They don’t spend much longer in Mongolia - normally it would be a lot of fun for them, as a group, spending time abroad together, but given the circumstances it feels somewhat off for all of them. They don’t talk about it too much on the flight home, but Barry phones Josh as soon as the airport lands, and he gives enough of an explanation to satisfy Josh without going into too much detail. 

 

Once they get back to the UK, nothing is really discussed in front of the rest of the crew, though Ben takes them aside, individually, to make sure they have a basic understanding of the situation. Mike spends a solid few days holed up in the editing bay to cobble videos together out of the footage they got, which is a proper effort on his part, but he likes to think he pulled it off. James and Ben similarly rack their brains for ideas, recipe lab some traditional Mongolian recipes, and get the community involved or something like that. 

 

Jamie makes a point of asking Barry what their next project should be. Barry has a lot to say, lots to do and ideas that Jamie can jump on and add to with sponsorship offers or emails that other brands or fans had sent in. It’s subtle enough that Barry doesn’t notice, but between all of them, they make a point of ideas being as collaborative as possible. If something does flop, if they release a new series and it’s unpopular, or gets negative feedback, it’s a group failure, not one person’s burden to bear. 

 

Between the more frequent compliments from the others, that Barry does his best to brush off, they sometimes insist he acknowledge his achievements. When he configures a new camera setup, he’s not sure it will work, but they mix it in with some new videos they film, some new editing techniques and go for it. 

 

“Baz, you have to admit it, you did a good job,” Jamie says. 

 

The day is nearly at an end, the video uploaded, and the response resoundingly positive. 

 

“It was a team eff-”

 

Jamie cuts him off. “It was your idea, and you pulled it off.”

 

Barry takes a steadying breath. It feels ridiculous that it’s this hard for him. “I’m proud of myself,” he says, after what feels to him like forever. “It’s good that my idea worked out.” 

 

It’s not word for word what Jamie suggested, but it’s close enough that Jamie pulls him into a hug, mussing up his hair, to Barry’s protest. It becomes increasingly obvious that for all his bravado and confidence, a lot of it is put on for the cameras. He realises he might not be able to concretely contribute to a video, but he can be a laughing stock easily, he can play into running jokes of him being stupid and over confident and it’s an easy thing to keep in the edit, to add to the running joke. It’s mid-video, but the focus isn’t on Barry for the time being, and it somehow doesn’t surprise him when James comes up behind him and wraps his arms over Barry’s shoulders. 

 

“You’re alright?” he asks. 

 

“‘m fine,” Barry replies, but he leans back into James’ arms anyway. 

 

“You’re doing good, Baz.”

 

And just like that, he feels a bit more at peace with it, like he can play an exaggerated version of himself on camera, but his friends know he isn’t really that much of a fool. When he does make genuine mistakes - it has to happen, he’s only human - the others remind him to push through. Jamie always with a joke and reassuring word, Mike willing to talk about “Oh that’s just like that time …” and detail a time when he was in error worse than Barry is in the moment, Ben reminds him to learn from it above all else, but not to dwell, or let it bog him down, and James is a reassuring force, reminding him of all the times he’s done something well. It helps with the others, everyone remembering to talk honestly about recipe labs when James and Ben ask, or acknowledging properly the hard work Jamie puts into their latest partnership, or Mike’s latest cinematographic technique or parody, that they know fits their brand so well. 

 

Barry does have to learn to push the voice in the back of his head down, the one that tells him that the others are all lying with their kindness, and that they’re only treating him like like they value him because they don’t want him to have another cross-continental breakdown. Sometimes that voice is louder than usual, after a Pass It On that he’s royally fucked up, or a battle that he knows he doesn’t even deserve to win. At times like that, Barry finds his breathing getting strained, and he sits himself down once the cameras are done rolling, to decompress on his own, but then there’s be a mug of tea in front of him. Mike is squeezing his shoulder and asking him to look at an edit because Mike’s not sure what he’s doing wrong. Barry’s grateful for Mike not pestering him about something being wrong or him needing to talk, and talking out plans for an edit and ideas makes it easier, shows Barry in a practical way how he’s needed. 

 

It’s still hard sometimes when he wins a battle - filming over and Barry in the kitchenette making coffees when Jamie comes over (“I’m better at making coffee anyway” is the excuse he gives as he takes over). The routine is well in place by then, Barry knows what Jamie wants him to say, so when Jamie rests a hand on his shoulder and gives him a look, Barry swallows and nods. 

 

“I earned my win today,” he says. 

 

“You sure as shit did, Baz,” Jamie says. “I mean, it was obvious you were on the right track from the recipe lab, but you nailed it today.” Jamie is enthusiastic and rambling about nothing in particular as he helps Barry make the coffee. 

 

“Thank you,” Barry says, when a moment of silence comes, taking mugs of coffee to hand out to the others in the office. 

 

“For the coffee? I mean, I know I’m good, but you haven’t even taken a sip yet.”

 

Barry laughs and shakes his head. “You know what I mean, J,” he says. “Seriously, thank you, for all of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from tainted love because my wip title for it was "ive got to (DUN DUN)" bc i truly dont have a sense of humour in all honesty. alt titles if you want an energy are like "gonna run from the choices that i dont wanna make" from catch me if you can.  
>   
> bless bless bless Sarah (@sordidfood here and on tumblr) for beta-ing this while i was trapped with no signal in the highlands - the key stage of removing all my goof 'em ups from small to big (including spelling 'and' wrong which is a new one even for me) canNot be missed


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